


onsra

by sohmins



Category: BLACKPINK (Band)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-04
Updated: 2017-09-04
Packaged: 2018-12-24 00:01:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,592
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12000681
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sohmins/pseuds/sohmins
Summary: It’s unfortunate that Lisa falls in love with the one person that can’t love her back or let her go.





	onsra

**Author's Note:**

> lots and lots of time jumps
> 
>  **trigger warnings:** abusive relationship; emotional/psychological abuse; psychological manipulation

Lisa doesn’t turn around when she hears the door open and close. “You were with her, weren’t you?”

 

She hears Jennie hesitate by the door, her steps stopping then starting again, this time walking toward the sofa. “Of course not, I came here first.” When Lisa still doesn’t respond, Jennie sighs loudly and, throwing one foot over the back of the sofa, steps over it to fall into the seat next to Lisa. “I told you I was sorry, Lisa. How many more times do you want me to say it?”

 

“I want to see you _be_ sorry, not just say it,” Lisa spits out. “When was the last time you did _that_?”

 

Jennie sighs again, softer this time, and even though Lisa doesn’t move Jennie touches her face lightly, tucking Lisa’s hair behind her ear and leaning forward to look at her face. Lisa is still looking straight ahead. “Lisa, baby, you know it meant nothing. She means nothing. She’ll fuck anyone that’s willing—”

 

“So you’re one of them, then? One of the people that want to fuck her?”

 

Jennie moves closer, kissing lightly on Lisa’s shoulder. Lisa doesn’t want to be distracted, though. “Jennie—”

 

“I swear I only want you. Don’t you know what you do to me, princess?” she whispers into Lisa’s neck.

 

Her breath tickles, and Lisa’s eyes flutter closed. “Don’t call me that,” Lisa says, letting out a breathless laugh, not because this is funny but because this is pathetic. She knows how this will end—she knows that this will only repeat—but she lets Jennie keeping going, all the while knowing full well that she’ll regret letting this happen. She always does.

 

—

 

They were innocent in the beginning, but somewhere along the way that innocence was lost. It was picked up, thrown down, and trampled over, shown no mercy despite its pleas. It’s easy to forget the times when they had still been innocent, to pretend that they had always been this level of fucked up.

 

When Jennie first sees Lisa, she feels like she’s waited her whole life to have someone look at her the way Lisa does.

 

They’re at a pool party, and Chaeyoung, who is a friend of a friend, introduces her to Lisa.

 

“Hi! I’m Lalisa Manoban, but you can call me Lisa,” she says, blonde bangs framing her face, her eyes bright and voice bright and smile so bright it’s blinding.

 

Jennie doesn’t know what to think of her.

 

“I’m Jennie Kim,” she replies, her tone only a little less bored than usual. “Nice meeting you.”

 

Chaeyoung leaves to greet her other friends, leaving Jennie and Lisa alone.

 

Lisa is awkward. “Um, so, do you know any others here?”

 

Jennie shrugs. “I don’t really care for them.”

 

Lisa clears her throat and looks down at her feet. They’re still standing where Chaeyoung left them, neither moving any closer to or farther from each other.

 

Jennie wants to see her eyes again.

 

“How old are you?” she asks, and Lisa seems surprised that Jennie is the one to try continuing the conversation; her eyes are wide when she looks up, and Jennie feels herself getting lost in them.

 

“I’m 17 . . . what about you?”

 

“A year older,” Jennie says, immediately dropping honorifics.

 

Lisa smiles again, because in her mind this is her making a friend— _finally_ , because until now she’s had to rely on Chaeyoung for most everything. “So you’re from here, right?”

 

Jennie shakes her head. “I’m Korean, yes, but I grew up in New Zealand. I take it you’re not Korean?”

 

“Yeah, I’m from Thailand.” Lisa glances in the direction that Chaeyoung disappeared. “Chaeyoung’s been the one showing me around till now. We go to the same dance school, and we’re both foreigners, but she’s Korean so she knows things better than I do here,” she says, volunteering information that Jennie never asked for.

 

But rather than feeling irritated as she usually does when people talk unnecessarily, Jennie finds Lisa intriguing, because Lisa is looking at Jennie like Jennie is all that matters right now, and like there is no one else she’d rather be talking to. “So,” Lisa starts, “since you’re also from around here . . . you can help me, right? I feel bad for always pestering Chaeyoung about things, but now I have you too!”

 

And Jennie loves that she matters to Lisa. But because Jennie is selfish, she wants to be the only one who matters to Lisa.

 

—

 

Jennie surprises her with the bracelet. Matching bracelets—couple bracelets. Tiny silver chains, with tiny silver charms hooked to the tiny silver links. Lisa thinks they’re beautiful.

 

Beautiful silver bracelets.

 

Beautiful silver chains.

 

—

 

“You deserve better.” Chaeyoung looks up, and then snaps her fingers in front of Lisa’s face. “Earth to Lisa, you there?”

 

Lisa blinks. “What?”

 

“I was saying that you deserve better. I’m your best friend, Lisa, and trust me, I’ve been trying . . . but I _still_ don’t get what you see in Jennie.”

 

With a sigh, Lisa stirs her coffee a few more times, having no intention of picking it up to take a sip. “I love her.”

 

“Don’t lie to my face,” Chaeyoung says brusquely. “No—you’re lying to yourself. And it’s _destroying_ you, can’t you see that?”

 

But Lisa only smiles tightly, because Chaeyoung is the one that’s confused. Lisa does love Jennie; Jennie just doesn’t know how to love Lisa back.

 

—

 

Jennie likes Lisa more than she’s ever liked anyone else, she decides soon after they meet.

 

Lisa is so sweet, so naïve, and so, so in love with Jennie that she’ll never leave. Even when Jennie shows Lisa all the terrible and cruel sides of herself, Lisa handles it because Jennie means so much to her. Jennie just takes and keeps taking from Lisa, chipping away at her soul piece by piece by piece; and it’s hard to stop because Lisa’s just so eager to please.

 

“Did I . . . did I do something wrong?” she asks, hesitant, and her young eyes look so pretty when she’s nervous.

 

Jennie shakes her head. “Of course not,” she says, pulling Lisa closer, and even though Lisa is taller, Jennie is clearly the one in control. Lisa blushes, ducking her head, her hands resting on Jennie’s shoulders as Jennie holds her close by her waist. “You can never do anything wrong, princess.”

 

Lisa giggles. “Princess?”

 

“That’s what you are to me. My princess.”

 

A princess. Her princess. Because Lisa only belongs to her.

 

Jennie likes Lisa more than she’s ever liked anyone else, but a lot of people like Lisa. Lisa is so friendly, so kind, such a positive person to be around, and not many people understand why she wants to be around Jennie, who’s the complete opposite. But Jennie can only laugh at them because it shows how much she means to Lisa.

 

Jennie also wants to break them for ever thinking they can get close to what was hers.

 

Jennie likes Lisa more than she’s ever liked anyone else, and she might just be losing her mind.

 

—

 

Lisa’s smile is still bright, but the brightness in her eyes has since been replaced by a different kind of dull—a kind of dull that shows an age beyond her years, a tiredness usually reserved for people much older.

 

But none of that matters because Lisa has Jennie.

 

—

 

Too many suggestive looks, too many accidental touches, and too many drinks: Lisa finds herself backed up against the wall in an unknown room, Jennie being the only familiar face, the only familiar feeling.

 

The room is dark, and their breathing is heavy. “I thought,” Lisa breathes out, before Jennie captures her mouth again. The contact burns. Lisa has to pull back for breath. “I thought you’d have more self-control.”

 

Jennie responds by kissing her again— _but I don’t_ —and Lisa is quivering at her touch because it’s been so long. Too long. She wants Jennie—she needs Jennie—and even this small gap between them is entirely too much.

 

And Lisa lets Jennie close that gap, lets Jennie press her body against Lisa’s so there’s no gap; no space, no room to breathe. Her head is spinning. This is too much. This is not enough. It’s hard to think.

 

Then she feels Jennie’s hand sliding up the inside of her thigh, beneath her dress, and because Lisa’s knees give out Jennie’s hands pushing her back against the wall are what hold her up. The room is dark, and everything about the darkness is too close. Jennie is too close. She needs to be closer. The room is too hot, and Lisa can’t breathe.

 

Jennie’s hands skates up a little farther, and Lisa’s breath hitches. She feels more than she hears Jennie’s breathy laugh. “Most of the room knew what you were thinking,” Jennie says softly, delicately, her words caressing Lisa’s ear. Lisa shivers. “The way you were looking at me? No one could mistake that.”

 

She’s hovering over Lisa’s neck, occasionally nipping her oversensitive skin, occasionally placing hot, open-mouthed kisses on the way down to her shoulder. “You want me to have self-control when you look at me like _that_?”

 

Lisa is shaking against her hand, and when Jennie’s fingers brush up again, touching, taunting, teasing, Lisa’s breathing stutters. Stops. Then it starts again, ragged.

 

And then Jennie slips in a finger and Lisa goes so still and the room is too hot. Much too hot. The next moment she’s gasping, while Jennie’s mouth is on her neck, on her jaw, and Lisa feels like she’s on fire. Her eyes are shut, and she can feel that Jennie is shaking, too.

 

“I—more—use more—”

 

Jennie kisses her to make her stop talking as she slips two more fingers inside and oh god, oh god Lisa feels like she’s going to faint because the room is spinning and her head is spinning and she can’t get enough air.

 

Lisa lets her head fall back against the wall, her back arching slightly and then she gasps, louder, because the angle—Jennie twists her fingers and when Lisa cries out again her voice breaks—Jennie drops her forehead against Lisa’s shoulder, her own breathing erratic too—Lisa can’t stop trembling.

 

Their panting is loud, the air is too hot, and Lisa’s mind is blanking because she can’t _think_ —and even though the room is dark, in Lisa’s head it’s too bright, and she shivers apart.

 

—

 

It’s all a game, and Jennie loves playing games, because the only games she plays are the ones she can win. It’s especially easy to play with Lisa because she’s too eager to please, too eager to just spend time with Jennie to know that this is a game that she’s going to lose.

 

But Lisa doesn’t feel like just a game, not anymore. Jennie finds herself awake in the middle of the night watching the younger girl’s eyelashes flutter in her sleep, and she feels a foreign tugging sensation in her heart, urging her to forfeit. If only Jennie knew how.

 

—

 

Chaeyoung manages to drag Lisa to a lunch with her colleagues, despite Lisa’s protests. “I need to take a friend, Lisa, I can’t show up as a loner,” she had said. Lisa eventually gave in.

 

After getting something to drink, Lisa loses Chaeyoung in the mass of people in line for the buffet. She looks around, shooting uneasy smiles to people with whom she accidentally makes eye contact, until she finally catches sight of Chaeyoung walking toward her with another girl.

 

“This is Jisoo,” Chaeyoung introduces, and Jisoo gives Lisa a small wave. Her hair is a dark chocolate brown, richer than Jennie’s ash brown hair. Her hair has gentle waves while Jennie’s is always pin straight. Jisoo’s eyes are warm and comforting, like hot chocolate on a winter’s night.

 

Her smile is disarming.

 

And when Lisa smiles back, though she wants it to be stiff, she’s more relaxed than she thought she’d be. “Hey.”

 

“Chaeyoung talks about you a lot,” Jisoo says, and her voice is lower than Lisa expected, a little husky.

 

Lisa raises an eyebrow, a foreign—or long forgotten—playfulness emerging. “Of course she does—she can’t really talk about herself, since she’s boring.”

 

While Chaeyoung rolls her eyes, Jisoo laughs, and the sound is so new and fresh that it’s etched into Lisa’s memory.

 

—

 

Jennie chases after Lisa, eventually grabbing her wrist and forcing her to turn around. Lisa is glaring at her, but there are tears in her eyes. “How could you? You said she meant nothing—”

 

“She _does_ mean nothing—Lisa, baby, you know that you’re always first—”

 

“I should be the _only one_ ,” Lisa cries, yanking her wrist out of Jennie’s grip. “I’m your fucking _girlfriend_ , Jennie, and that’s a commitment!”

 

Jennie clenches and unclenches her fists, knowing that she shouldn’t reach for Lisa again but _Lisa is standing so close_. “You’re spending too much time with Jisoo.”

 

Lisa steps back in disbelief, and Jennie has to resist the urge to step closer. “ _That’s_ your reason? She’s my _friend_ , Jennie, I didn’t know those were off limits too.”

 

“That’s not what it looked like.”

 

Lisa laughs, and the sound is ugly and biting. “So you were jealous of Jisoo? That’s why you made out with Nayeon? In front of _everyone_?”

 

Jennie’s voice is quiet, but forceful. “Do you know what it did to me, when I saw all those pictures of you with Jisoo that day?” She walks closer. Taking Lisa’s hand, Jennie puts it over her own heart. “It _crushed_ me. But I love you—and because I love you, you deserve to know what it feels like to be betrayed like that. So that this never happens again.”

 

Lisa turns, ready to leave, but Jennie’s hand is around her wrist and this time the other is around her waist, holding her still. “Lisa, I love you, but you have to understand—”

 

“It’s always about you, isn’t it?” Lisa sniffles, and the there are tear tracks staining her cheeks now. “I always have to understand you, but what about me? Why don’t you ever listen to me?”

 

“I’m trying, can’t you see?” Jennie’s eyes are wide, searching, not recognizing all the signs pointing out their love’s toxicity. “Is that not enough for you? I’m trying to understand, but I just can’t understand why you would want to—to _embarrass_ me by being with Jisoo like that—”

 

“Do _not_ try to spin this to be my fault instead of yours,” Lisa says, her voice trembling with anger and frustration and regret because there’s only one way this can end.

 

Jennie steps closer still. Her voice is gentle again, sweet and reassuring, and suddenly nothing is wrong anymore because this is the Jennie that Lisa remembers first falling in love with. “I’m sorry, I’m so, so sorry. I just wanted you to feel how hurt I was when you did that . . . but I’m here now. We’re here, together.” And her words are hypnotizing, mesmerizing. “We’re meant to be, Lisa. We were, and we always will be.”

 

This is the Jennie that loves her. Loves her, loved her, will always love her, but Jennie doesn’t know how to love and their love is a lie.

 

This is the Jennie that she loves. She loves her so much, too much, and it’s been so many years that the lies have started sounding like reality and it’s—it’s so much easier to just stay. She knows Jennie. She loves Jennie. Jennie loves her.

 

Jennie loves her.

 

Lisa shakes her head, though she doesn’t push Jennie away. “How can we be ‘meant to be’ when we can’t even ‘be’?” she asks quietly. “We’re a living contradiction.”

 

Jennie pushes Lisa’s hair behind her ear, then lifts both hands to hold her face delicately. “We’re perfect,” she tells Lisa, leaning in to press a soft, chaste kiss to her lips.

 

Jennie loves her.

 

Lisa’s eyes flutter closed. “We’re absurd.”

 

There’s another kiss planted on Lisa’s cheek, near her ear. “I love you, princess.”

 

Lisa’s eyes are closed as she rests her head on Jennie’s shoulder, listening to Jennie lie sweetly in whispered breaths, and she bitterly ignores all the signs pointing out their love’s toxicity.

 

_No, you don’t. But I still love you._

 

—

 

“I love you,” Jennie tells Lisa as they lie naked on Lisa’s bed, tangled in each other, the cool white sheets offering a tiny respite from the chilly room. “But I’m going to fuck this up.”

 

Lisa tilts her head up to look at her. “You won’t. We’re doing fine.”

 

“For now.” Jennie trails her fingers up Lisa’s arm, lightly touching her collarbone. It’s more prominent, now. “Promise me you won’t leave me, Lisa,” she whispers, and in the dimly lit room, between the two of them, it sounds like a secret. A forbidden secret. “I’m trying, but if I mess up . . . I love you so much, princess. Please don’t—you can’t—”

 

Lisa cuts her off with a kiss, soft and gentle. Her eyes are smiling when she pulls back, and she whispers, “I won’t.”

 

—

 

Lisa knows who Nayeon is, despite not having met her before. Nayeon, with her porcelain skin and porcelain eyes and porcelain teeth, is beautiful and ugly and everything that people seem to want when they hook up with her for one night. Many people go back more than once, and Jennie is one of them.

 

Lisa knows who Nayeon is, because before Jennie and Lisa started dating, Lisa would see Nayeon hanging off of Jennie’s arm at every event they attended.

 

Lisa knows who Nayeon is, because even after Jennie and Lisa started dating, Lisa would hear Jennie entering the room at four in the morning while laughing drunkenly into the phone, repeating the name ‘Nayeon’ religiously, happily, lovingly, in all the ways she should only be saying Lisa’s name.

 

But Lisa isn’t supposed to know who Nayeon is, because when Lisa even begins to form the question Jennie shuts her down. “She’s no one, princess,” she always says. “No one important, no one compared to you.”

 

And that’s the end of that conversation, because Lisa loves Jennie and doesn’t want to lose her.

 

—

 

Lisa likes it when she wakes up next to Jennie, the day stretched out in front of them, sunny, warm, and clear; she gets to kiss Jennie awake, and the sunlight is streaming through the breaks in the blinds; and when Jennie opens her eyes she smiles, her eyes warm and her smile warm and her presence so warm and comforting and familiar.

 

Jennie likes it when they’ve had too much to drink and are in a random room in a place they’ll soon forget, the harsh neon lights making it easier to keep their eyes closed than open; and Lisa’s eyeliner is running and lipstick is smudged and the smell of perfume and sweat and desire is so suffocating that Jennie can’t think; and when Lisa tilts her head back, eyes hooded and lips parted in a silent gasp, and Jennie knows that she’s the only that can make her feel like this.

 

—

 

Chaeyoung tries again. “Lisa, you need to break up with her.”

 

“What?”

 

“She’s not good for you. When I introduced you two to each other, I thought—okay, maybe they’ll be friends. Maybe she’ll be good for Jennie.” Chaeyoung laughs humorlessly. “And yeah, you’re good for her. _Too_ good for her. She’s ruining you, bringing you down to her level.”

 

Lisa runs a hand through her hair, pushing her bangs out of her face because they’re much longer now and she can tuck them behind her ears. “That’s what you always say. You’ve been saying that for—what? How many years?”

 

“But you never listen!”

 

Lisa is about to stand up because this is a conversation she has had with Chaeyoung too many times to count, but Chaeyoung blocks her path. “Have you ever talked to her about what love _actually_ is?”

 

Lisa frowns, because the conversation doesn’t usually take this turn. “Why would I?”

 

“Because I don’t think she knows what love is.”

 

“Then would _you_ know?”

 

Chaeyoung purses her lips, slightly annoyed that Lisa is being difficult. “Well—I know it’s not what’s between you two, for sure. Love is—love should be about trusting each other enough to let each other go, but also trusting that both of you will choose to stay. You can only love if you’re free, not when you’re chained to each other.”

 

Lisa stands up anyway, but Chaeyoung’s question sticks in her mind.

 

—

 

“You say you love me.” Lisa’s eyes flicker to Jennie’s before looking down at her hands again. “What does love mean to you?”

 

“What kind of question . . .” she trails off as she realizes, from the look in Lisa’s eyes, that she’s being serious. “What do you mean?”

 

“Well, you see—for me, love is about trust. About letting the other go, so that they’re free, but they still _choose_ to stay.”

 

Jennie tilts her head to the side, her eyes thoughtful. “I think love is . . . wanting to be with someone so much that nothing else matters. That person becomes your priority, above all else. And I love you.”

 

Because love is wanting to be with a person so much that no one else is allowed to be with them.

 

Because love is wanting to lock a person away so you never have to share them with anyone else.

 

Because love is wanting to carve your name into a person so everyone will know they belong to you.

 

Because love is all of these and more, Jennie loves Lisa.

 

—

 

Jennie laughs because Lisa is so pretty when she cries.

 

“You’ll always need me,” Jennie says, spitefully. Her words are meant to cut Lisa, and they do. “What’ll you do without me? Move on?” She shoves Lisa back against wall, but Lisa doesn’t care, staring blankly back at Jennie even as tears run down her cheeks. “To who? Jisoo?” Jennie sneers. “She can’t love you. She might say she does now, but just wait, and she’ll leave you. Just like everyone else will.”

 

And when Lisa cries harder, her whimpers becoming audible, Jennie’s smile widens. She likes that she can cut Lisa with just her words—that her words have that kind of power over her.

 

“But I won’t leave. I’m right here. I’ll always be here for you, because I love you.”

 

Jennie wishes Lisa would stop crying now, because isn’t Jennie’s love enough?

 

“You’re my princess, Lisa, and no one will ever love you as much as I do.”

 

And maybe Jennie laughs because she doesn’t know how to deal with the strange pain that makes her chest tighten up when Lisa cries.

 

—

 

“I don’t understand!” Jisoo throws her hands up to show her frustration as she paces across the room in front of Lisa. “Why do you still date her when she treats you like this?”

 

Lisa presses her hands together tightly, twisting them in each other. She says nothing.

 

Jisoo stops pacing and comes to where Lisa is sitting on the sofa. She kneels down in front of Lisa, taking Lisa’s hands and prying them apart so she doesn’t keep hurting herself. Jisoo holds her hands in a gentle grasp. “You deserve so, _so_ much better. I know, I might sound a bit brazen, but I think—” she shakes her head— “I _know_ I can treat you better. You deserve better than Jennie—hell, I don’t think _I’m_ good enough for you. But why do you insist on staying with _her_?”

 

Lisa blinks slowly before glancing up to meet Jisoo’s eyes. Resignation meets confusion, and Lisa offers her a weak smile. “I love her.”

 

—

 

“You need to break up with her.”

 

Jennie looks up from her coffee, confused. When Chaeyoung had called her to meet up, Jennie hadn’t known what to expect. She still doesn’t know Chaeyoung that well.

 

“Excuse me?”

 

Chaeyoung slides into the chair across from Jennie, not having bothered to order a coffee beforehand. “You’re hurting Lisa, and that’s hurting me. I don’t agree with what you’re putting her through just so you can have the upper hand in whatever this—this _mess_ is. So you need to break up with her.”

 

“I don’t think you understand,” Jennie says, and her tone is no longer confused but icy, her signature coldness back as a protective wall. “I love her, and she—”

 

“She’s fucking _confused_ , that’s what she is,” Chaeyoung interrupts. “What do you call her? ‘Princess’?” She spits out the endearment in disgust. “Then you should treat her like a princess all the damn time, not whenever it strikes your fancy.” She’s trying to maintain some semblance of calmness because they’re in public, but it’s hard because Jennie is right in front of her and all that Jennie deserves is a fist to the face.

 

Jennie finds her rage entertaining. She leans back in her seat and takes a sip of her coffee. “I don’t think you know enough about us to know whether I treat her like a princess or not. But right now this all just sounds like you have an irrational hatred toward me, and it’s rather off-putting, to say the least. I barely know you, after all.”

 

Chaeyoung blinks once, twice in disbelief, her mouth falling slightly open. “You know what? I don’t even care about you enough to hate you. But I care about Lisa, and she’s been unhappy, so you need to break up with her.”

 

Jennie smiles. “That’s an interesting opinion,” she says, standing up to leave. “But I don’t believe I asked.”

 

—

 

Jennie likes playing games, but Lisa doesn’t feel like a game.

 

Games aren’t supposed to feel like she’s drowning as she’s trying to play.

 

Games aren’t supposed to feel like sadness and regret every time she takes her turn.

 

Games aren’t supposed to feel like she’s losing a part of herself every time she wins.

 

But Jennie likes playing games, and Jennie likes winning.

 

—

 

“You love me . . . but it’s all a game, isn’t it?” Lisa feels Jennie’s hands trailing down her side, circling her bare waist. “You give me all this love because you want to prove that you can easily take it away. To prove that I need you more than you need me.”

 

Jennie brushes her nose against Lisa’s jaw, humming softly, the vibrations barely there and making Lisa shiver, and then she begins to plant gentle kisses down to her shoulder.

 

“But you—you’re not a game, Jennie, not to me.”

 

Jennie stills against Lisa’s neck, her breath tickling Lisa’s collarbone. Lisa swallows nervously. “I—I love you, even though we don’t see love the same way.”

 

And Lisa is prepared for the claws, for the harsh words that Jennie will throw at her to tear her down. She is prepared to cry herself to sleep, like she’s been doing for years now. She is prepared for the lies that’ll be whispered so believingly, almost as if they were the truth.

 

“I love you too,” Jennie breathes out slowly against Lisa’s ear, and Lisa shivers, a chill running through her. Jennie laughs softly, then presses a kiss at the base of Lisa’s neck. “But I thought we were past asking about what love is.” Her kisses move up, to Lisa’s jaw, and then Jennie’s lips are hovering over Lisa’s, almost touching but not quite.

 

Her whisper is sweet, addictive. Like poison, it’s slowly killing them both. “Love is what we make it, princess . . . and we’ll make this neverending.”

 

**Author's Note:**

>  **onsra**  
>  n. the bittersweet feeling that occurs in those who know their love won’t last.  
>  _origin: the Boro language of India_
> 
> Well, I don’t know what this mess is, but the idea was eating away at my brain and I couldn’t focus on anything else so I had to just write it . . . anyways, get out of toxic relationships, guys, even if staying seems like the easier option.


End file.
